CHAPTER EIGHTEEN #3
Getting out of the cell was the easy part. Getting down the corridor without alerting every demon in Pestilence’s fortress? Not so much.
Gabriel is doing his best, but every few steps, he stumbles, and we pause while he catches his breath. Each time we stop, my heart rate kicks up another notch. We’re sitting ducks down here—three beings who should not be in this place, moving at the pace of evolution.
“We need to get to The Firehouse,” Gabriel says as we pause again, his breathing labored.
“The bar?” I ask, trying to understand his reasoning. “I guess we could all use a drink.”
Gabriel starts to chuckle. “Oh, don’t make me laugh. It hurts. We need to get to Alastor.”
“Why?” Jenna asks before I can interject.
“He has something that belongs to me, and the fact that his mother is half the reason I’m here.”
I’m about to bombard him with a plethora of questions when we round the corner and come face-to-face with three of Pestilence’s guards.
“Oh, shit,” I breathe out as the three of us come to an almost cartoon-like stop, slamming into one another.
For a moment, everyone freezes. The guards stare at us, and we stare back at them. Time seems to slow down as my brain scrambles for a plan—any plan—that doesn’t end with us being torn to shreds.
Then I hear Gabriel sigh. “I really didn’t want to do this.”
“Do what?” Jenna and I ask in unison.
Before either of us can stop him, he’s stepping forward, flaring his still mauled wings out to their full width. They are massive, and even with their missing feathers and blood-caked tips, they’re impressive.
“I would run if I were you. I’ve been locked away for far too long,” he growls out to the guards as Jenna and I stand behind him, protected by his wingspan.
“RUN,” he commands, and his voice has taken on an otherworldly quality that makes every cell in my body scream danger.
The guards don’t hesitate. He may be half dead, but power still radiates off him in waves. Before Gabe can make his next move, they turn and run in the opposite direction, tripping over each other in their haste to escape.
When they’re out of sight, Gabriel collapses to the ground in a heap of flesh and feathers, and for a moment, I think that was it for him. But he raises his head up and looks back at the two of us still standing there, our mouths agape.
“That was fucking hot,” Jenna says as she rushes to his side to help him back up.
“Agreed,” I say without thinking as I grab his other arm.
“We’ll discuss your poor impulse control later,” she says as we heft him back up to standing, each of us grabbing an arm again. “Right now, we need to take advantage of their terror and get the hell out of here.”
We move faster after that, Gabriel clearly pushing through the pain with grim determination. Every so often I’d catch him stealing glances at Jenna, his expression unreadable.
We’ve almost made it back to the main corridor when we hear her.
“GAbrIEL!” The sing-songy female voice echoes through the fortress, sweet and terrible all at once. Pestilence, and she does not sound happy.
“Oh, fuck,” I eloquently state, cursing our fucking luck.
“My sentiment exactly,” Gabriel agrees as he does his best to muster up his remaining strength.
“We’ve got to move, like, NOW!” Jenna urges, practically dragging us forward.
We burst into the main corridor just as Pestilence appears at the far end. She looks exactly like she always does—beautiful, terrifying, and radiating an aura of power that makes my stomach turn.
“You came back to me!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together with delight. Then her eyes land on Jenna and me. “Oh, and look, you brought friends. How… thoughtful. But shouldn’t you to be locked up someplace cozy, waiting for your life to pass you by? “
“We were just leaving,” Jenna announces, her voice steady despite the terror I can feel radiating off her. “And you’re not going to stop us… this time,” she adds, and I have to wonder—in the decade she’s been here, how many times has she even attempted to escape?
I watch as Pestilence tilts her head, regarding us like a cat might a particularly interesting pair of mice. “I’m not?”
“No,” Gabriel repeats, and his voice is stronger than it had been.
He straightens, pulling away from our support to stand on his own.
“Because I will never, ever give you what you want. You can chain me, torture me, and keep me down here until the end of time. But I will never love you again, Pesta. That part of me died the moment I destroyed humanity for you.”
Something flickers across Pestilence’s face—hurt, maybe, or fury. It’s gone too quickly to tell. “We’ll see about that.”
Pesta raises her hand, and I feel power surge through the corridor, dark and malevolent. Jenna shoves me behind her, her wings materializing. We both watch as Gabriel sways, but he holds his ground.
“RUN!” he shouts at us. “Get out while you can!”
“We’re not leaving you,” Jenna protests, and I can hear the pain in her voice.
“Yes, you are,” he insists, “I love you too much to watch you sacrifice more of your life for me.”
“Gabriel—” she cries out, and I can hear the pain in her voice. A sob consumes her voice just before chaos erupts around us.
But then Pestilence strikes, and I watch as lightning crackles along what remains of a crumbling corridor. I can feel the energy surging through my body, and I can see all the little hairs on my arms stand on end.
“Jenna,” I beg. I don’t want to leave Gabriel any more than she does, but our options are becoming increasingly limited the longer we wait.
She won’t leave, I know that, because if it were Reaver instead of Gabriel, I would do the same thing.
Well, sans wings. In a split-second decision, I grab Jenna’s hand and tug, dragging her with me as the corridor behind us explodes in fire.
I risk a glance back and see Gabriel still standing there, facing down Pestilence with nothing but determination and spite.
“We can’t just leave him!” Jenna screams over the sound of destruction.
“We have to!” I yell back. “He’s buying us time. We can’t afford to waste it. We found him, and now we have to get out and bring back reinforcements,” I reassure her.
Jenna just nods, and we keep running, neither of us daring to look back again. We burst through doorway after doorway, the sounds of Pestilence’s fury echoing behind us. Finally, we make it outside, and I stop dead in my tracks.
“Holy fuck,” I heave out as I scan my surroundings, and for the first time, I really understand the scope of where I am.
The sky above, if you can even call it that, looks like rolling fire behind dense, black clouds.
And in front of us is a river—a black, molten river.
“How do we get back?” I gasp, my lungs burning as I fight the urge to wretch and vomit.
“By boat,” Jenna says grimly, and then I see them. Down the charred hillside are dozens of boats that defy logic and basic science by not bursting into flames.
“You’re joking. We’ll be burned alive just from the heat,” I protest, but even my logical mind knows we aren’t in Kansas anymore. Logic and science have officially left the building. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, fly us across?”
“No and yes,” she answers, and I stare at her for a full minute waiting for a bit more information.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I yell, hoping she’ll elaborate.
“Oh, right, sorry. I can fly across, but you, being human, the only way out would be to cross the Styx. But…” her voice trails off.
“But?”
“But I’m not sure what that will do to you. Souls only cross the Styx to wait for judgment. But… you’re…” She motions with her hands up and down my body.
“I’m?” I shout. “Please explain it to me as if I’m a child, or I don’t know, someone who hasn’t spent much time in fucking Hell.”
Jenna lets out a frustrated sigh as if she’s somehow forced to explain the simplest thing to someone. “Souls only ever cross the river once. Now, I’m not sure how you got here. I’m guessing Pesta has a way in and out…”
“A Dimmu gate,” I answer, because I’m not completely ignorant of this world. I may not know all the ins and outs of it, but I know the basics. Or at least I thought I did.
“Correct. So, I’m not sure what will happen to a living person once they cross the river.”
I let out a sigh as I let my mind comprehend what she’s saying.
“So, we just fought our way out of one bad situation only to face another. Yup, that seems right.” I sigh again and rub my temples, hoping she gives me an Option B.
But I know that’s not likely, because sadly, this is Option B.
We just came from Option A. “Okay, I’m willing to take my chances on the river, or through the river, whatever.
Let’s just go,” I say, grabbing her arm and heading down the hillside.
The journey down seems to take forever, as we slip and slide down the rocky hill.
When we hit the shore, my heart begins to pound in my chest as I look at the boats.
Or more specifically, what’s standing in the boat.
A ghastly figure, cloaked in black, standing at least seven feet tall, waits at the end of each boat.
“Wh…wh…who are they?” I ask Jenna, my voice shaking in pure fear.
“The ferryman, Charron. They’ll require payment to cross,” she states, and I instantly regret asking.
“I don’t have my wallet,” I say, patting my pockets, hoping for some spare change.
Jenna laughs and shakes her head. “I got you,” she states as she holds out her hand, and I watch as a golden coin rises from her palm.
It spins and radiates a golden glow, which grabs the attention of the first ferryman.
“Come on, you can only cross with a Harbinger,” she adds as she walks toward the boat.
I must force my feet to move forward as I follow her.
The moment she stands in front of the ferryman, her black gossamer wings flare out, revealing her true form.
She holds out her hand with the coin, and I watch in fear and amazement as Charron’s skeletal fingers close around it, and he steps aside, allowing us onto the boat.
“Whelp, here goes nothing,” I say as I follow Jenna past the creature and step onto the boat.
“Don’t look over the sides,” she warns, as Charron closes the plank and moves to the front end of the boat to grab the chain attached to the helm. As his skeletal hands work to pull us forward, I glance over the edge despite her warning.
Hands reach up out of the black ooze that I thought was water, but upon closer inspection is actually a black sludge. Faces moan and yell for help as we pass them. I take a step toward the edge, and Jenna pulls me back.
“You can’t save them. Sit,” she commands, and like an obedient dog, I listen.
There are no seats, so I sit on the floor and pull my knees up to my chest as I try to block out the sounds of hopeless wailing coming from the sludge. Every so often, I hear something scrape along the bottom of the boat, and I do my best to block it out.
“We’re almost there,” Jenna reassures me. I stay seated with my arms wrapped around my legs, and my eyes closed until I feel the boat come to a stop, and Charron lowers the plank for us to exit.
Jenna taps my shoulder and holds out her hand for me to take. “Come on, we’re across.”
“We made it?” I croak out as I grab her hand and stand up. “Am I still alive?” I ask, really hoping for a yes.
“I think so,” she answers, looking around.
The moment my feet hit the ground on the other side of the Styx, the sound of hopeless moaning from the river is gone, and even though we are still deep in the Underworld, a feeling of relief washes over me.
I want to celebrate that we’ve survived. But all I can think about is Gabriel, standing alone in that corridor, facing down the woman who had tortured him for God knows how long.
“He’s still there,” I whisper.
“I know,” Jenna said quietly. “But, he fed and has some of his strength back, and I have something I didn’t have before because of you.”
“What’s that, a lack of coinage?” I jest, but she doesn’t laugh. She just gazes across the river at the hell we just came from, and despite everything, there is fierce determination in her eyes. “Hope.”